our affair in story, song and verse

we began brave and true, us against all the world,
shining underdogs needing only each other,
thrilled by each step on the path stretching before us,
free wheeling travelers in a Bob Dylan tune.

later, we grew manic, flitting this way and that,
excited but aimless, living free on the vibe,
aflame with our vision but heedless of others,
self-absorbed beats in a Jack Kerouac book.

still later, we burned out, got lost, sidetracked our dreams,
began randomly obsessing on little things -
dead spiders, cigarettes, dirty plates, empty rooms -
bleary street creatures in a Charles Bukowski poem.

at the end we existed in atomized space,
disillusioned, defeated, annealed by sadness,
mutely watching as darkness seeped through our fingers,
grim range riders in a Cormac McCarthy tale.